The Next Step ... begins
I almost threw up before work Monday morning. My stomach flipped as I thought about the workday and -week ahead. I gaged and my breakfast jumped halfway up my throat. Alarmed, I covered my mouth and sat still, holding my breath until my breakfast settled and the sensation passed a few moments later.
It is the first time my job has almost made me physically sick—no doubt a sign that I can’t do it much longer. It’s confirmation that my decision to take the next step in my life has come at an opportune time.
I gave the JRS my notice on Friday. I plan to leave the journal this summer after 12 years as its editorial assistant. The editor was shocked but is understanding and supportive. He asked if I can continue for the rest of the year. I told him I would think about it, but I don’t think I can.
My decision to leave the JRS does not affect my other journal, the JUA, and I will be working for both for a few more months. But giving notice is a very big step for me—the first as I make the move to (mostly) freelance writing.
Am I scared? You bet! This is my first turning point in forever, perhaps since I moved to California. I’m afraid of making the wrong decision, of rocking the boat too much. The uncertainty is keeping me up at night; my mind has been a whirlwind of thoughts for the last three or four weeks. However, I find solace in the fact those worries are natural after making a change, as they were years ago. I’m also comforted by the realization that it’s time. I’m not going to let the uncertainty and risk keep me from taking the next step, especially because I need to do it.
Why write? Because it’s what I do, it’s in my bones, it’s who I am. (Writing that brings tears to my eyes.) For instance, I’m writing these lines at 5:47 a.m. on my phone while lying in bed, hoping to sleep in on a Saturday morning after a restless and thought-filled night. I’ve reached for my phone five or six times in the last 20 minutes to write down ideas, lines, and paragraphs so I don’t forget them. (I’m crafting and polishing this post while driving through Nebraska, which is helping the Cornhusker State pass quickly.)
Can I make a living writing and working with words? I’m unsure, but I’m going to find out! Will it work? If it doesn’t, it doesn’t and I’ll do something else—though I will always write.
